


Lace Me Up

by Hatteress (goddammitstacey)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, converse porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:23:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddammitstacey/pseuds/Hatteress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh my god, how do you do that?” Stiles groans, watching as Derek yanks on the laces of his cons with a semi-vicious precision that absolutely, totally should not be at all hot except it so is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lace Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of a 'Zip Me' prompt on tumblr: _Leave a “Zip Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about a character dressing another._

"Oh my god, how do you  _do_  that?" Stiles groans, watching as Derek yanks on the laces of his cons with a semi-vicious precision that absolutely, totally should not be at all hot except it so is.

It's the concentration. And the confidence. Derek's giving Stiles' fucking  _cons_  the same level of focus he usually reserves for fingering him open and it's so not okay.

Derek quirks his eyebrow at him from his position on his knees - because of course he is - Stiles' foot still in his lap as he ties a quick bow that may as well be rope to a  _bedpost_  for all the attention Stiles' dick is giving the action. "How do I do what?" Derek says, shifting so that he can tug Stiles' other foot over. If Stiles weren't already sitting on the bed he'd have fallen on his ass.

Derek tugs the tongue of the shoe up, muscles in his bare forearms cording and Stiles just licks his lips because  _life isn't fair_. "Make tying someone's shoes look like a sex act," Stiles says and Derek huffs his own brand of a soft laugh. Stiles feels something warm and pleasant tug in his chest at it, just like it always does.

"You're just horny," Derek says, like it's a normal, everyday- actually, fair call.

"Of course I'm horny," Stiles says, paying far too much attention to the twist of Derek's fingers as he does up the second shoe. " _Someone_  decided to fuck off to a werewolf meet and greet for two weeks leaving me bereft of cock."

Derek hums, rising to his feet with all the grace and dexterity that simultaneously makes Stiles want to punch him in the face and climb him like a tree. "Well  _someone_  would have been nailed into the mattress last night when I got back," he says, tugging Stiles to his feet by the flaps of his open shirt and Stiles manages very valiantly to both  _not_  immediately fall down again AND not swallow his tongue. Go him. "Except  _someone_  went and fell over a  _cliff_  while I was away," Derek continues, nodding down to Stiles' arm.

The one that's in a cast. Because yes, there had been a cliff but in his defence, it had been a little one and he'd been running for his life at the time. Both things that - surprise, surprise - hadn't soothed Derek at all the night before when he'd climbed through Stiles' window to inspect every dark-smudged bruise on his skin before clutching manfully to him all night.

Derek's hands bracket Stiles' hips, brushing carefully over one of the angriest bruises there and god, he's doing the pinched eyebrows and the set mouth and Stiles knows that expression far, far too well.

"Hey," he says, hooking his good hand around the back of Derek's neck, fingers finding the tension there and pressing. "I'm okay."

Derek's lips thin a little more at that and Stiles thinks,  _fuck it,_  before tipping Derek's jaw and licking into him, not bothering with gentle because right now neither of them need reminding of just how breakable Stiles is. Stiles doesn't pull back until Derek's fingers have tightened almost painfully on the bruise on his hip; until he's forgotten it's there.

"God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but hurry up and do up my shirt," Stiles pants and it's actually almost painful telling Derek to put clothes  _on_  him rather than take them off. "I promised my dad we'd meet him for lunch fifteen minutes ago."

Derek's answer is to turn Stiles, back him up against the wall next to the window and insinuate a thigh between his legs as he...starts buttoning up Stiles' shirt. Stiles bucks against Derek's thigh and groans. "I hate you so much."

Derek rolls his hips and Stiles chokes on air. "I know," he says as he just keeps on buttoning.

**Author's Note:**

> Want a prompt of your very own? Come attack me on tumblr: [hatteress.tumblr.com](http://hatteress.tumblr.com/)


End file.
